


Crash and Burn

by squarephoenix



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Also influenced by stackie, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Fluff and Crack, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, a tiny bit of angst but mostly crack and fluff, i don't know where this timeline takes place, overprotective steve?, poor attempt i'm sorry, references to black panther, references to thor ragnarok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 02:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squarephoenix/pseuds/squarephoenix
Summary: In which Steve Rogers is being a Charles Boyle and needs to stop playing matchmaker with his two best friends.





	Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an idea I had while watching Brooklyn 99 (i can't even remember which episode because I started this so long ago). It’s a small moment where Jake and Amy recall the first time they met and how Boyle did such a bad job trying to play matchmaker it took them years to recover from it and get together. (It’s funnier if you watch it -_-) Anyway this is Steve being a Charles Boyle.  
> Also this was supposed to be for Sam’s birthday bang but it’s two months late…  
> Also also a lot of this was based on Stackie (Mackie/Stan)

  
1.

Bucky was sitting at a work bench with Sam after a target practice session. While he reloaded and cleaned his gun, Sam busied himself with recalibrating Redwing’s targeting reticule.

Bucky could’ve easily let one of Stark’s employees handle the task of cleaning his guns but it was an enjoyable chore he didn’t mind doing.

His present company was a nice bonus, not that Bucky would ever voice it. Even to Steve.

Especially to Steve.

Though it's not like his best friend isn’t aware of any feelings Bucky _MIGHT_ have developed for Sam.  

 

Besides the company, Bucky will never admit to enjoying, Bucky enjoyed servicing his weapons to keep up his speedy record. Since his time in the army, Bucky had fun challenging himself to cleaning, dismantling, and reassembling his weapons. It was one of those things that reminded him of the person he used to be.

But constantly having to blow his hair out of his face was tanking his speed.

He lets out a guttural sound in frustration when the strands return and irritate his eyes causing him to pause his cleaning for the fifth time. Bucky forgot his hair band and he won't try a makeshift bun again after Sam called his last attempt a nice starter home for family of pigeons. (“Why, do you have some relatives that’re house hunting?” A nice comeback but it didn’t stop Sam laughing at Bucky’s ratty bun. And as great of a laugh Bucky had to admit Sam has, he’d rather not make the other man laugh at his expense.)

“I swear I'm this close to chopping my hair.” Bucky complained as he ducks his head and tries to whip his hair away with no success. He thought to himself Thor had the right idea cutting his hair, even if the Asgardian didn’t have a choice in the matter from the story he told.

It wasn't the first time Bucky thought of cutting his hair but he never went through it no matter how many times the thought passed his mind. He felt he would look too much like the Bucky Barnes (celebrated war hero) that he saw at the museum he visited when trying to piece together his memories. And current Bucky Barnes (the longest held prisoner of war) didn't feel much like that celebrated war hero, despite being forgiven by his new friends, so looking in the mirror at a reminder of who he could never be again wasn't something he wanted.

But something had to be done with his hair. It took too long to dry. He was either viewed as a hipster, a bum, or ‘white Jesus’ (Sam first called him when he popped in for a surprise visit to Wakada with Bucky wearing robes and a better bun than he could ever make on his own). His one good reason for keeping his long locks was quickly losing the battle -- enough was enough of the jokes and hair maintenance.

“Hey, you better not or I will be personally offended if you cut your hair. Chic street rat is a good look on you.” Sam did his best to make it into a backhanded compliment to keep the nature of their relationship as shit-giving friends. But it didn't work.

Warmth flooded Bucky and his dilemma over his hair now a distant memory. Here was a big plus side to keeping his hair long that wasn't about superficially running from a past image of himself.

Bucky tucked his loose strands of hair behind his left ear, a lopsided smile proudly featured on his face.

Sam paused tightening a screw on his drone to sneak a quick peek at Bucky. “Don't get too full of yourself. If I've gotta look at your sorry mug on a regular basis, might as well be as good looking of a sight as it can.”

“I'll take your vote into consideration.” Bucky said but they both knew the decision was officially made to keep it.  


Steve chimed in from where ever he came from because he can’t help himself. “If you think Bucky’s hair looks good wait till you feel it running your fingers through it. Go on give it a tug you won’t believe what those Wakadan oils does for the texture. Do it.” Steve pressed, completely ruining the moment.

No one sane (it goes without saying Steve is excluded) can blame Sam for how uncomfortable he looked in that moment. “I don't think so, Steve. I’m -- I’m okay not finding out right now.”

But Steve wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had to push while there was an opening. “Oh c'mon don’t be shy, Sam. He doesn't mind. You don't mind, right Buck.”

“I think gonna grab a screwdriver from my room.” Sam dropped the screwdriver in hand and rushed to leave and Bucky knew he had no intention of coming back.

“Jesus, Stevie…” Once Sam is out of earshot.

“I thought I was helping.”

“I know. And I can't tell whether that's sad or scary.”




“On your left.” Steve called out as he raced pass Sam on their morning jog. Their little running joke started getting old for Sam especially after Steve’s seventh lap. Not to mention that he says it anytime Sam is dumb enough to take Steve up on his offer to run with him.

And they run together a lot.

Well, the joke was only tired when Steve did it. Sam found it funny when he would jet pass Steve with his wings strapped on and used the same line.

Even though jogging with Steve came with its annoyances -- another being his ridiculously undersized tees. It also came with benefits.

“Say the word and I’ll trip him.” And apparently Bucky found it annoying as well, staying in pace with Sam and may have been one of those previously mentioned benefits. It was just nice to have someone to complain with. That’s it. And they both didn’t mind airing their grievances about America’s golden boy.

At first, Sam had to admit he thought Bucky was taking pity on him, or worse mocking him, when he never bothered going full speed like Steve. But Bucky had said he just needed a distraction and could use the company. It was either stalk around the aisles of Costco or enjoy a beautiful day with a friend. (Bucky hadn’t said which friend but since he spent the majority if the time with Sam on their run, the friend in question was clear.) Bucky had told Sam they should be honored that he gave up his trip to Costco since he’s always exempt from the one free sample per customer rule.

“You wouldn’t.” Sam tried calling his bluff.

“Wanna bet? Steve’ll forgive me, I’ll just say I had a bad flashback and turn on the sad eyes. I could get him to carry me home on his back if I wanted.”

Sam laughed in spite of himself. “You’re a sick pup but alright - bet’s on, Barnes.” Sam knew there had been a reason why Steve begged to change their plans a month ago for Bucky’s geeky science expo.

“Alright. First, since we used the word ‘bet’ what do I get out of it?”

“You used the word ‘bet’ but I’ll bite. What do you want?”

“I want you to make me a batch of your ma’s cookies. AND I don’t have to share ‘em, not even with you.”

“You sure? I can’t say I wouldn’t take the opportunity to poison you.” Sam said with no evidence on his face whether he was serious or not.

But Bucky didn’t take the bait, confidently responding, “No you wouldn’t.” And then Sam caught a small, relaxed smile on the super soldier that made him look like the last 70 years never happened. It was quite a sight seeing a happy, carefree Bucky.

 

Sam shook himself when he realized he had taken his eyes off of the carefree smile to Bucky’s strong jawline covered in stubble. By the time he phased back into what Bucky was saying, it was a little too late unfortunately.

“--berry is my favorite - fruit and topping. So it’s a deal?”

“Um, sure…” Sam sealed the deal by shaking Bucky’s outstretched hand. He had no idea what he was agreeing to. Whatever the flavor Bucky wanted wouldn’t matter too much. The guy never failed to wolf down his mom’s cookies no matter what type it was.

 

True to his word when Steve came running towards Bucky and Sam on another lap, Steve was given a hard shove into the reflecting pool by his oldest friend before he could finish the infamous line. But Bucky hadn’t taken in consideration that Steve would grab onto anything close by to save him from his fall which happened to be Bucky.

 

Sam exploded in laughter seeing the two soaking super soldiers flopping around trying to untangle themselves from each other to stand up.

Sam’s laugh could’ve gone much longer if he kept looking at Bucky’s wet hair plastered to his face. Instead, Sam took notice of every line, every ridge of Bucky’s abs constricting as he sat forward in the shallow water squuezing the water out of his shirt. And then when Bucky pulled the, now less damp, shirt up to face to wipe his face - the definition of his soaking pecs were in painstaking detail for all to see. And Sam was seeing it all -- hell, he couldn’t rip his eyes away.

“Did you need to take a picture, Sam - or do you have it burned to your memory?” Steve wore a grin as wide as the pool he was shoved in. And Sam wished he could wipe that knowing look off him as easily as Steve wiped the rivets of water off his wet face.

He realized belatedly his mouth was wide open. Fortunately Bucky’s eyes were obscured by his long hair.

 

“I - uh, - Bets off?”

“Whaddya mean the bets off? Sam? Sam!”

 

By the time Bucky got his hair under control and most of the water away from his face, Sam returned back to his jog leaving Bucky to watch in confusion and another emotion he was too distracted by to identify.

“Do I need to get a camera for you too?”

“What?” Bucky asked with no attention to Steve in mind as he watched Sam’s ample ass with full attention.

Once Sam was out of view Bucky looked up to see Steve offering a hand. “So is that the real reason you kept at his speed? Free peeks?”

Steve laugh quickly morphed in a surprised grunt as his legs were swept and he fell on his ass back in the water. “Don’t make me tell you again to mind your business, punk.”

He didn’t even care that he basically answered Steve’s rhetorical question when he ran full speed to catch back up to Sam.

Or at least he tried to. His soaked socks and sneakers kept him from running full speed to catch up with Sam.

 

3.

Steve was tired of Sam and Bucky pretending not to care for each other the way he knew they did.

As much as Steve (and the whole team) protested Tony recruiting Peter to join the team as an official Avengers before the kid could even vote, his presence did come with some benefits. Like introducing Steve to a new game perfect for proving his knucklehead besties that they cared for each other more than they let on.

 

Steve loaded the game on his phone with topics relating to each man that would test just how well they knew the other. After all, people keep the intimate details of close friends close to their hearts. That’s what Steve was banking on, at least.

His plan seemed to be working.

“My favorite album?”

“Troubleman!” *Ding!*

“The celebrity you thought you saw on the subway.”

“I didn’t think I saw him, I know it it was him.”

“Why would he be taking the subway?”

“I dunno. Could’ve been heavy traffic… sometimes trains are faster!”

“Answer Sam’s damn clue already!” Steve cried out. Sure his reaction was a little strong for a guy on the sidelines during Bucky and Sam’s one-on-one match but he was highly invested in making sure they both came out on top.

“Oh, uh, Clint Eastwood!” *Ding!*

Bucky had gotten every answer right. And 14 questions later, Sam was on his way to the same perfect score. The night was proving to be a huge success in Steve’s book.

“Alright, last one and it’s a tie.” Steve announced.

Sam tapped the phone’s screen pressed against his forehead for the next challenge to begin.

“Easy one. My favorite fruit?”

“Oh, um, it’s…” Sam began snapping his fingers in rapid fire, hoping to jostle the answer off the tip of his tongue. He knew it was some kind of berry.

“C’mon. Five seconds left.” Steve reminded.

“Got it! It’s strawberries!”

“Strawberries? What the fuck, Sam. Strawberries!? It’s blueberry. Blueberries! This is so typical.”

“Sue me, I didn’t remember a dumb fruit.” The soured mood caused Sam to toss the phone into the couch cushions, muffling the beeping alerting the round was over. It felt like the game wasn’t the only thing to end that night. “Why are you getting so worked up for this? It’s a game. For fun. Remember fun? Or did you leave that back in Wakanda with your goats?”

“You couldn’t get that one question, could you?”

Sam threw his hands up and then crossed over the living room to the coat closet. He couldn’t believe Bucky was making a stink over this. Like all the other questions didn’t mean anything. Like he didn’t care if Sam knowing Bucky so well meant nothing.

“Guys, guys. Let’s take a break, we still got plenty food.” Steve tried, waving to the bowls of snacks on his coffee table but Sam was already putting on his jacket, hand turning the knob of the front door. “Sam, where are you going? Sam!” The door slammed shut, leaving Steve and Bucky alone in awkward silence.

“Why’d you have to go nuclear on him? It was only a game, Buck.”

Bucky twisted his face, clearly not buying it.  “Just a game? Bullshit, Steve. I know the real reason you set this game night up.”

“Then you should see that he likes you. He cares about you.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“One wrong, Bucky! He had one wrong out of 15! And it was about fruit!”

“Yeah, but it was one of the few times where it was just the two of us when I told him that and he couldn’t remember it. Face it, if you’re not around then Sam’s interest drops. So for chrissake Steve give it a rest already.”

Steve didn’t push the issue with the downcrest look on Bucky’s face and let his friend cradle the bowls of snacks on the couch like a lifeline. Another opportunity would present itself and show Buck he was wrong about Sam. For now he’d keep his friend company as Steve watched him mindlessly munch the entirety of food set out for three people.

 

4.

“You can't beat me, Wilson.” The first words Bucky had said to Sam since the same night disaster. Who knew it would take this to end both of their silent treatment toward the other.

“I can.” Sam’s teeth clench trying to avoid his opponents moves.

“You can't. My reflexes will beat you every time.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Barnes. It's not about reflexes, it's all in the mind. I don't even need to look.”

Sam’s eyes lifted from their thumb wrestling match to show he’s not bluffing, and Bucky copied him not wanting to be one upped.

A staring contest breaks out from the ongoing thumb wrestling match that began as a way keep Bucky from drumming his thumbs without rhythm as they waited for Steve to wrap up a video call with Tony in his office. And with the way Tony often railed off subject to talk about his life post-Avenger, Sam couldn’t take Bucky’s relentless drumming thumbs for the duration it would take for Steve to return.

Their thumbs now hover and sway aimlessly lightly brushing, forgetting the goal to pin the other.

Either one could’ve easily ended the match as the other was lost in a daze. So close to each other, it felt like an opportune time to memorize the face in front of them under the excuse of not wanting to be defeated.

Bucky’s eyes traced Sam's cheekbones, in his mind comparing them to the delicious curves of fresh red apples. He clung to fond memories of how they look when Sam laughs. But at the moment they caused Bucky to frown when he notices them winces in pain. He took a glance down and noticed how stiff Sam’s hand looked. As if their game wasn’t already forgotten, Bucky forfeited easily. He’s never been as stubborn as Steve and Sam when it came to winning. Case in point, the fact that Sam is in discomfort and still won’t back down.

Though it had been Sam’s idea, their impromptu thumb wrestling was just a perfect excuse to hold Sam’s hand but now he’s found a better excuse to hold it.

He gently took Sam’s hand into both of his, and began kneading the muscles without asking.

Sam sighed in blissful relief. Funny enough, his hand hadn’t been aching because of their little game or his duties as an Avengers. It came from his other job. Yesterday Sam spent most of the day catching up with work, filling out tons of paperwork and typing out his counseling notes and schedules for his replacement if an emergency ever called him away during work hours. “Thanks, Buck.”

The name gave Bucky a satisfied smile that’s dangerously close to breaking into a full blown face stretching one.

It’s rare for Sam to call him “Bucky”, it’s practically unheard of to hear “Buck” fall from Sam’s lips. And speaking of things falling out of Sam’s lips, the moans failing to be stifled by Sam are causing Bucky to want to be Sam’s 24/7 on-call masseuse.

But that job looked to be over when Steve finally returns.

“Look at you two!” Steve cooed out and both men turn to his presence. Steve clutched at his heart looking like he’s watching the most tender, heartstring pulling rom-com ever made.

The private moment that gave Bucky a sense of intimacy is immediately broken and Sam yanked his hand away. “God, Barnes why are your hands so moist?” Sam wiped his hand on the leg of his jeans. “No wonder I couldn’t pin you, it’s like trying to wrestle with an oil slicked seal.”

 

Bucky frowned looking down at his empty hands and it wasn't because they were damp, which they weren’t -- they felt cold without Sam’s warm, surprising supple skin to hold.

“And why do they smell like peanut butter?” Sam exclaimed after a quick sniff of his palms.

“Screw you, Sam.” Bucky stood from his seat with so much force that the chair skidded back several feet and shoved past Steve to leave.

“Wherever you’re going I hope it’s to get some paper towels!” Sam shouted at the empty doorway where Bucky exited. “Dammit!” Sam said lowly and got out of his seat to pace in a small circle. “Please don’t say anything, Steve. I know I messed up.”

Sam didn’t know why he had to act like that with Bucky, especially after that amazing massage Bucky was kind enough to offer. Sam couldn’t help slipping into their usual routine of bickering, finding it as an easy fix to forget about the hands that so gently soothed his aches and brought a welcoming heat to his face.

“I was gonna say how about we go out drinking. Might be a nice gesture if you’re the one to invite Buck.” Steve suggested.

Sam took the advice that for once wasn’t overly intrusive or just plain weird. He was a little afraid to face the man he drove away, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth again. So he texted Bucky a meet up time for later at the Avengers compound, more so telling him to show up than asking. He even added that other members will be there, just in case Sam’s not his favorite person to be around alone with at the moment. The answering “sure thing, maybe we can finish what we started” brought a grin to Sam’s face.

Until he heard a click. That was definitely a camera shutter noise.

Sam looked up to see Steve with his phone aimed at him. “Sorry, this will be a great one to add to the scrapbook. You’ll thank me at your wedding.”

“You were so close to acting like a normal human being, Steven. So close.”

 

There’s a tap against Sam’s face that stirs him out of a deep sleep. A weird dream of which Sam can only remember flying carefree in a vast amount of serene blue color stretching in all directions. The tap brought Sam back to conscious world but it wasn’t enough to make him open his eyes, too focused on trying to remain in the peacefulness of his dream.

It was a nice one. Sam hardly ever gets to fly for the fun of it if he isn’t scouting for danger, or drop-kicking bad guys (which is fun but not without its share of danger). So he did his best fall back asleep, hoping to return to that blissful dream.

There is another tap, this time in repeated succession, and the hand doesn’t leave his face after stopping. Sam can feel the pads of rough fingers stroke his face but they’re nice enough and oddly familiar that Sam isn’t alarm by the caressing of an unknown person.

Sam had no reason why he felt safe but he did. He's not even sure where he is but he knew he is okay. In the back of his mind, he knows it could be the remnants of his dream projecting a false sense of security. But that isn’t the case here.

He would be able to drift back to sleep if there wasn’t a throbbing pain in his head that makes itself more present the more aware Sam becomes. And the irritating pain has reached the point of no chance of returning to sleep.

Sam doesn’t want the light stroking to stop but he needed to find a way to stop the throbbing.

He opened his eyes to find shell shocked ones staring back at him, the color of which give him a flash of the dream he awoke from.

 

“Mornin'.” Bucky said at a low volume and thank God for that. Because Sam realized the light in the room is worsening his headache to the point where he can feel the pain sprouting to the back of his eyeballs. And there’s the gross taste in his mouth that confirmed Sam definitely has a hangover to explain his ailments.

And it also explained why Bucky brings a pair of aspirins and a glass of water into Sam’s hands after helping him sit upright. As upright as Sam can get anyway.

But his hangover doesn’t explain why Bucky was sitting at his bedside stroking Sam’s face.

After draining the water given to him, his dry throat feels comfortable enough to speak from. “If I didn’t know you, I’d seriously be worried that you roofied me and you’re about to wear me as a coat.”

“You do have amazingly soft skin.” Bucky confessed with a look of contemplation.

“Yeah… that makes me want to change my answer.” Sam took a look around his surroundings. “Where did you sleep?” He asked when he saw he’s in Bucky’s room.

 

Bucky patted the armrest of the chair he sat in as an answer. “You weren’t looking so hot. I just wanted to make sure you were okay through the night.”

“Thanks. That’s… thanks." Sam was a little speechless. It’s one thing to always have each other's back in battle but another when your sometimes friend, sometimes crush, sometimes guy you want to tangle his hair into a toaster and switch on, is offering to be your very own caretaker.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s more for my benefit. If you died choking on your vomit, I wouldn’t want to lie at your funeral about what a great person you are and how funny and kind and brave and junk you were.”

“Seeing as my service would be at my pop’s old church, it’s best you don’t invoke a bolt of lightning down on your ass for lying in church.”

Bucky’s laugh morphed into a full blown yawn.

“Hop into bed.”

Bucky raised a brow at that. And Sam can’t blame him, he’s surprised at offering to him.

“My way of apologizing for you having to play nurse all night.”

 

Bucky made his way around the bed to the empty space so Sam wouldn’t have to move, not that he could if he wanted. “You should be ashamed. Even Steve could hang better than that back in the old days.”

Which was bullshit because Sam didn't have his ass handed to him by your run of mill liquor. It was Asgardian mead - made for a Norse God… or a couple of century old super soldiers.

But Sam didn’t call him on it because Bucky was looking at Sam in such a way that his headache was a dull throb. And it wasn’t because of the aspirin because no drugstore brand aspirin worked that fast at dulling pain. The real pain reliever were those soft eyes and easy smile staring back at him like Sam was a Christmas display window that made people feel all festive and good will to all men.

And Sam doesn’t know what his face is projecting, it can’t be any better (or worse?) because Bucky’s smile grows wider and he tucks his hair behind his ear like anytime Sam dishes out a rare compliment for the super soldier.

And right on cue, probably because Bucky stupidly said his name, Steve barges in the front door shouting his worries about not hearing from Sam since last night and then within seconds he’s in the bedroom doorway frozen in place.

“Learn to knock, you rude punk.”

The words fall on deaf ears because Steve is lighting up with glee at the sight of his best friends in bed together.

Steve wasted no time in capturing the moment with his phone to go along with the picture of Sam he took yesterday. “This’ll be a great companion to the video I have of you flirting with Bucky last night.”

That headache Sam thought was dissipating was coming back in full effect. “What?”

“You were practically reciting poetry about Bucky’s eyes.”

“I did not. I would never.” Sam adamantly stated.

“Oh ho ho, you did. I believe you said --” Instead of Steve repeating what Sam said, he decided to let Sam of last night do the talking with a press of play. Steve was shaking from his contained giggling.

 

[“Those steel blue eyes let you know where home is. That's my safe place. Those beautiful eyes.”

Bucky was so distracted by Sam wrapping his arm around his shoulder, their side pressed together sitting on the couch, that he hadn’t noticed Steve filming the moment.]

 

“C’mon Steve, just let it go.” Bucky tries to stop Steve before he could eradicate the step forward he made with Sam before he came in.

“Why? Sam said it, it’s how he really feels.”

“This is why I hate hanging out with your perpetually sober ass! His eye color is the same as my bedroom walls, you jackass! That’s the only reason I would say something like that!”

Bucky gets a look on his face. Actually it’s not even a look because he shuts down. His face devoid of any expression. And Sam knows he went too far. It makes him feel worse than the Asgardian god sized hangover he’s pushing through.

“All right. I think it’s time for you leave the patient alone.” Bucky’s clenched jaw made it hard for Sam to tell who he was more annoyed with, Steve or Sam.

After Bucky all but shoved Steve out the door, closing it behind them, Sam’s left alone angry at himself for possibly being the one to do that to Bucky, even more than he’s mad at Steve for ruining the moment.

 

Bucky shoved at Steve’s chest, enough to make his anger at him known but not hard to the point of a brawl breaking out between them. “You just had to keep poking didn’t you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Me? You’re mad at me? I’m only trying to help the two most important people in my life be happy. I see the two of you being oblivious dopes over each other. You were no better last night, tucking your hair behind your ears every time Sam was touchy feely with you. You were turning redder than Wanda’s psychic blasts. Someone has to give you both a nudge or nothing will ever happen!”

“Good intentions are nice and all but from what I heard the last person you gave relationship advice to fled to another galaxy.”

“Wait--you can’t put that on---”

“An entirely different galaxy, Steve!” Bucky’s face switches to one of a newfound epiphany. “Y’know what I’m beginning to think you’re the one with a thing for Sam. Yeah, maybe you’re sabotaging me to get with him yourself because you can’t really think you’re helping here like you are.”

 

Steve scoffed at the very notion. He tripped over his words trying to deny claims that he has the hots for Sam. A flustered blush painted his cheeks and for once he’s the one fastily exiting mumbling about getting food for everyone and coming back in a bit.

 

Bucky finally got his smile back, smug at successfully shooing off his best friend out of his apartment. “Dumb punk.”

 

Sam overheard the whole exchange. And even though his head felt like Thor was summoning thunder bolts to his skull, the bedridden Avenger couldn’t help but smile. “So is that true? Do I have the eyes of two super soldiers now?” At Bucky’s questioning look, Sam followed with, “I told you not to cheap out with not upgrading these thin doors when you bought this place.”

Although his private conversation was made very public, Bucky ignored any embarrassment and took Sam’s lighthearted tone as a good sign. And he decided, not at all because of Steve because Steve is a dumb know-it-all punk, to just… be honest. “Nope, just the one standing in front of you. I knew that old bisexual disaster would panic at the thought of having feelings for you.”

“Am I that bad?”

“Not in the slightest. You have an objectively nice ass that I caught him checking out once or twice during our runs and now he’s brooding over if there’s more there beyond a passing appreciation. Don’t worry it’s not.”

“Cool. I think I can only handle one hundred year old disaster at a time.” An awkward silence settled in the room before Sam made it more awkward by patting Bucky’s previous spot.

Bucky went over, aware of every step he made bringing him closer to Sam and what that might possibly mean.

 

“What’re you staring at, Sam Wilson?” Bucky asked once he settled beside Sam, he didn’t know why he used Sam’s full name.

“Home.” Sam answered easily, also wanting to just be honest about his feelings.

No one was running away this time. Bucky caressed his hand over the cheeks he’s come to revere. And Sam was feeling good enough to make the next move, leaning into Bucky with eyes intently focused on the super soldier’s lips. But their progress was derailed when Bucky pulled back -- though not far enough that when he spoke in a low, husky voice Sam felt the faint breeze of Bucky’s breath.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, but I think I’ll have to wait a little longer until after you’ve brushed your teeth.”

 

Sam groaned out a loud wail and hid himself in embarrassment under the comforter.

“Hey don’t deprive me of that gorgeous face.” Sam turtled his head of the covers to give Bucky what he wanted. “Though you might want to wipe that eye gunk out over there,” Bucky moved a finger toward the corner of Sam’s right eye and was immediately swatted away.

Sam glared with jaw clenched. “I hate you.”

His actions, however, betrayed his sentiment after Bucky nestled close to Sam and settled for a kiss the top of his forehead until they could wash up. Sam squeezed them even closer to soak in the warmth of Bucky’s chest, soothed by his heartbeat.

The silence between them now was full of content and excitement over their new future - together.

 

Bucky hummed and Sam knew him well enough that it’s a contemplative hum. “What is it?”

 

“When Steve finds out he’ll never let us hear the end of this. I can hear him now giving his best man toast saying we wouldn’t be together if it wasn’t for him.”

“Best man as in our wedding? Woah, Barnes. Are you that sprung already?”

Bucky held Sam to his chest to keep the man from craning his neck to look up at him. Being honest with each other was one thing but he’d rather not let Sam see his face turn beet red. “Shut up and use that bird brain to figure how do we tell Steve without him wearing a smug ‘you should always listen to me’ face for the rest of our lives?”

“I’ve got an idea.” Sam grabbed his phone and was thankfully his Redwing had a smartphone app he could use to remotely call the drone from anyplace.

 

+1

After some soul (and food) searching, Steve returned back to Bucky’s place with enough food to ease a hangover of a wingman and satisfy the hunger two serum enhanced men. He laid out the spread of food on the kitchen counter and called out that food was here. He belatedly winced realizing that his loud call might’ve been too much for Sam. But it didn’t seem to be the case when Sam walked past Steve, patting him on the back, to poke through the offerings.

Steve hoped it was enough to make up for badgering the both them into admitting their obvious mutual attraction.

 

Steve chuckled when he noticed Sam’s shirt saying ‘Hello I’m Sam fucking Wilson’. “Nice shirt.”

A moment later. He heard Bucky behind him. “How d’you like mine?” Steve turned unprepared to see Bucky wearing a shirt that read ‘Hello I’m fucking Sam Wilson’ causing him to choke on his beverage.

“Got it?”

“Got it.”

Steve choking and coughing looked back at Sam to see him holding his phone recording the reveal.

Bucky went to Sam’s side to view the footage.

“Almost as beautiful as you.” He kissed Sam. A kiss he’d been wanting to do for the longest time. Even though they had shared their official first kiss as soon as Sam spit out his toothpaste. Bucky had been so impatient he hadn’t let Sam rinse his mouth out before showing Sam just how ‘sprung’ he was on the other man.

It was Sam’s turn to pull back from the kiss threatening to make them send Steve packing so they could have some alone time. That could wait because Sam really needed to eat.

“I… *cough* was… *cough* still right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry Sam. I don't know why I keep making you bed-ridden. (I just really love people taking care of him)
> 
> PS - this ending was totally ripped from this tumblr post because I could not figure a way to end it until I stumbled upon this gem.   
>  https://sambuckyforever.tumblr.com/post/177865120734/sam-walks-in-wearing-a-shirt-saying-im-sam


End file.
